


teach me someting, Archivist.

by PeriPeriwinkle



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Light Angst, Psychological Horror, The Distortion, teacher!Jon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeriPeriwinkle/pseuds/PeriPeriwinkle
Summary: “N-no, mister Sims, it’s just–” Jon looks up, worried. Kenzie certainly sounds spooked, but she’s not looking at him, and rather somewherebehindhim. “That door wasdefinitelynot there ten minutes ago.”Helen drops by for a visit.
Comments: 33
Kudos: 808





	teach me someting, Archivist.

Being in a classroom with dozens of teenagers looking at you expectantly was, in many ways, worse than being in the Institute.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly true. But Jon did feel like burrowing into a hole in the ground and hiding would be preferable every now and then.

But sometimes it’s not so bad, and today it’s one of these times.

Kenzie is, once again, in detention. Caught making obscene gestures and cursing around one of the more conservative teachers. Jon thought it was stupid to punish her for something as small and harmless as that, but the school had few harset rules, acting _nice_ and _proper_ being one of them. Jon never had any difficulty following these rules, of course, but Kenzie, well. A bit of a rebel in heart, not caring about what other people think of her, wild and prone to doing good recklessly.

And also just being reckless, like a normal teenager is wont to do.

Usually there are other teachers who supervise kids in detention, but they all had outstanding appointments to get to, so Jon volunteered to take their place for once. He called Martin to let him know he’d be spending the afternoon at the school, and pulled out some test papers he has to grade. Might as well.

They've been sitting in silence for all of five minutes when Kenzie groans dramatically.

“Mister Sims, I’m _bored_.”

“Have you finished your homework, Kenzie?”

She huffs, flops over her desk. “I don’t wanna do my homework. I’m not in the right mood for it.”

“If you can’t get in the mood to do your homework now, while you’re at school, I’m assuming you’ll have little to no success actually getting it done once you get home. I won’t force you but I highly recommend you at least give it a try.”

She groans again, louder, throws her head back.

“Mister Sims, I’m _boooored_.”

“I heard you the first time, Kenzie.” He looks up, grinning despite knowing he shouldn’t. “Do you have any suggestions on how to kill said boredom, perhaps?”

“Glad you asked!” She exclaims, sitting up with a leap and flattening her hands on the desk. Jon chuckles. _Of course_. She was just waiting for him to ask. “Are you in a _good mood_ again, mister Sims?”

Jon hums, absently marks a question as correct. “Sure, why not. What do you want to know now, Kenzie?”

“Why do you hate spiders so much?”

Jon freezes. His fingers tighten on the pen and he can hear the plastic casing cracking.

“Apologies, but what gave you the impression...?”

Kenzie shrugs, either not noticing or not realizing how freaked out the question’s made Jon. “I saw you freeze and get the fuck away from a nasty one just the other day. But I’ve also seen you help overturned beetles and coo at a particularly big moth, so it’s not an _insect_ thing, it’s a _spider_ thing. So, what is it? Childhood trauma?”

Jon takes a deep breath. “Actually... yes, that is exactly what it is.”

Kenzie freezes midway through tipping her chair back as far as it can go. “Oh. Uh.” She tips it back forward with a bang and looks mildly embarrassed. “Whoops. Sorry, mister Sims.”

Jon sighs. “It’s... it’s fine, Kenzie. You had no way of knowing. But if possible I’d prefer we spoke of literally anything else.”

“Alright, uhhh... something safer then, I guess. How did you and your husband meet?”

Jon grins, besotted. _Husband_. What a concept.

“We worked together, actually. Took us a few years before we actually became a couple, however.”

“Ohh, unrequited pining! Love to see it. When did _that_ happen, then?”

Jon’s smile drops, and Kenzie notices right away because hers does, too. He remembers the fog, Peter taunting him, how _satisfying_ it felt to will him out of existence. Remembers desperately looking for Martin in that cold, Lonely place, wondering what he’d do if he couldn’t bring him back, but Knowing he would, despite all the odds being against them.

“I saw him, and in turn, he saw me. I found him and we saved each other.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and Kenzie breaks it by going _wow_ , sounding genuinely surprised. “I, uh. Wasn’t expecting that. Ominous answer as always, though, mister Sims. Consistent on that front at least.”

Jon chuckles, shakes his head. “Can I ask for a favor in turn, Kenzie?”

“Shoot.”

“Please try and do your homework, just- _try_. Give it a shot. And if you’re not done by the time I finish these gradings I’ll help you with them, how does that sound?”

Kenzie groans a third time and sighs long and deep, but she’s already ruffling through her backpack, pouting all the way through. “ _Fine_ , fine, you win mister Sims. But only because I apparently asked all the wrong questions.”

Jon makes another check on the sheet in front of him, smiles softly. “I’m sure you’ll think of _actually_ safer ones next time, Kenzie.”

He hears her muttering something that sounds like _safer_ under her breath, putting on her earbuds, and Jon vaguely hears the muffled sound of heavy rock music as it starts playing at full volume. Jon turns his focus back at the pile of papers he has to still go through and frowns. With a glance back at Kenzie to make sure she's actually focused on her own work—seems like it, what with the way she chews the end of her pencil and squints at the words on her notebook—he takes a deep breath, wills himself to relax and his eyes go unfocused, and allows himself to Know the answers to the questions in the papers he’s grading instead of actually having to read and analyze them thoroughly, tired of struggling and just needing a bit of respite, something that feels natural to him, as unnatural as it might be to anyone else.

It’s about fifteen minutes later when Kenzie breaks his concentration.

“Uh, mister Sims...?”

Jon curses softly under his breath, shuts his eyes tightly to stop the influx of Knowledge from pouring out of his brain, gets back into the present and focuses on where he is, who he’s with. He really thought Kenzie would be lost in her work and her music for a bit longer, and he hopes he wasn’t looking too spooky-eyed, as Martin calls it, that she noticed anything looking amiss. “Kenzie, _please_ try and focus on your homework? I still have a lot of papers to grade and I’d like to get it done before–”

“N-no, mister Sims, it’s just–” She interrupts him, hesitating, and Jon looks up, worried. She certainly sounds spooked, but she’s not looking at him, and rather somewhere _behind_ him. “That door was _definitely_ not there ten minutes ago.”

Jon’s blood freezes over.

He looks back, and sure enough, there it is: a yellow door in the wall next to the blackboard where a door both has never been and should never be. He gets up from his chair, the scraping sounding unusually loud in the empty classroom, and tightens his hands into fists.

Kenzie is still on her seat, probably wondering what exactly it is that she’s seeing. Wondering if she's going _mad_.

Jon will not have it.

“Kenzie. I need you to leave.”

“W-what?”

“Get your things and get out of this room, Kenzie, _now_.”

But before Kenzie can move the door creaks open, long, sharp fingers curling around it, an amused voice coming from behind it.

“Your advice to your pupil is to have her walk through _a door_ to try and escape me, Archivist? Is it _really?_ ”

And Helen finally steps out fully, with her too-wide smile and dizzying eyes crinkled with amusement, looking so out of place in this peaceful place of learning that Jon almost feels sick.

Kenzie gasps.

“ _What the fuck._ ”

“Now, young lady. That sort of language is what got you in detention in the first place. Can’t be repeating your mistakes, now, can we?” And she crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe in a mockery of a reproachful stance, her colorful and shifting clothes making Jon’s eye water. “Wouldn’t you agree, Archivist?”

“Get. _Out_ ,” he snarls, and Helen pouts.

“Oh, please, Archivist. Don’t be so _dour_. I just wanted to personally meet your protegès! I’m sure you can understand. And I haven’t had a chance to personally tell you how _proud_ I am of you and Martin yet, you two make the most _adorable_ couple.” And she turns her attention back to Kenzie, her face almost resembling Helen’s for a second, her smile soft and small. Kenzie shrinks back on her chair under that stare. “I see I came at a good time to meet at the very least one of them.”

“ _Mister Sims?_ ” Kenzie half whispers, half squeaks, finally looking back at Jon, but always glancing back at Helen.

“It’s alright, Kenzie. There’s nothing to worry about,” he says, and Helen laughs at that, the sound making his ears _hurt_. Kenzie gasps and curls in her chair, hands pressed against her ears.

“Is that right, Archivist? You think very highly of yourself still, I see.”

“ ** _I will not allow you to hurt her_** ,” he says, letting his voice carry over power, but Helen just grins, looking amused.

“You should’ve thought of that before deciding to enter her life, then, don’t you think?”

Jon clenches his jaw, tightens his fist. Glares, but it all just makes Helen laugh again, and despite being softer, the distortion it carries sounds even worse than before.

“You’re _still_ struggling against the tides, Archivist, and it is so very frustrating to watch, you know? You and Martin, eloping runaways, daring to go against all odds in order to construct this idyllic life in the highlands, when really, deep down, you know it’s all a moot point. You _Know_ better than anyone that a normal life has never been and will never be an option for the likes of us. You should just _embrace_ the life gifted onto you–”

“ _Enforced_ ,” Jon interrupts her, voice dripping with venom, and Helen allows him to do so, smiling almost fondly. “That life was _enforced_ onto me, and Martin, and Tim and Sasha and Melanie and– no, I will _not_. _My sincerest apologies_ for not wanting to become a _monster_ and wanting to live a _normal_ , regular life with the man I love, in a career that suits me.”

Helen laughs again at that, much louder this time, head thrown back, and Jon flinches as the distortion bounces and echoes against the walls of the empty classroom. “ _Suits_ you? Archivist, _please._ The only reason you’re good at your job is because the Eye feeds you the information you need to be good at it. I mean, _history_. Really?”

“Shut. _Up_.”

“Oh, no snarky remarks this time? No witty comebacks? I’m _bored_ , Archivist.” She sighs, then turns back to Kenzie as if just remembering she’s there, waving one of her hands playfully, her long fingers clicking against each other. “Oh hello, my dear. How _is_ our marvelous Archivist treating you so far? Well, I hope?”

“ ** _Leave_**.”

Helen puts her hands up then, grinning. It reminds Jon of Michael, and it sends shivers down his spine.

“You’ve never been _fun_ , Archivist. But fine, I guess I will. Don’t want to refuse your compelling and end up like dear old Peter Lukas, now do we?” She winks at him, and for a second Jon widens his eyes, opens his mouth to say something, but Helen’s already walking back through the door. “It was nice to meet you, dear, and it’s always a pleasure, Archivist. I believe I’ll see you around?” She says, then giggles as the door swings shut behind her.

And while one moment the door is there, at the blink of an eye it suddenly isn’t anymore.

The classroom falls back into heavy silence.

Jon slumps back on his seat, suddenly exhausted. He lets his head fall into his hand, concentrating on taking deep, measured breaths.

He’s _fine_. Kenzie’s _fine_. He won’t let Helen hurt her; won’t let her get to any of them. _He won’t._

“Mister Sims...?”

Jon looks up, weary. Kenzie looks pale and wide-eyed, like she’s seen a ghost, which. She might as well have.

“What was...?”

“No more questions, Kenzie,” he says, breaking out of his shock, then starts packing up his papers. “Please put your things away, I’ll be walking you home. Doors aren’t... _safe_ right now.”

Kenzie pauses, almost as if she wants to say something. “I still have a whole two hours of detention left.”

“I’ll tell anyone who asks that you were feeling unwell and had to leave early. Send anyone who complains over to me, and I will vouch for you.”

“Okay... okay,” she mutters, bagging her things haphazardly and shouldering her bag once more. Jon gets up before she does and opens the door to the hallway, triple checking to make sure it actually _is_ the door to the hallway. Once he confirms it’s safe he nods and crosses over, gesturing for Kenzie to follow him.

He walks them to the main doors, talks to a coordinator who’s passing by. She glances at Kenzie and sees her face, still pale and twisted with discomfort, and doesn’t argue with Jon, allowing them to leave. Jon thanks her, and guides Kenzie away with a gentle hand on her back.

Halfway down the road to her house, Kenzie breaks the silence again.

“Peter Lukas. Isn’t that the old head of the place you worked at? The one who vanished out of thin air right before you moved to Scotland?”

Jon swallows, keeps walking, eyes glued forward. “How do you know that?” He asks, making sure to keep any compelling out of his question.

“We did our research on you, mister Sims, remember?”

Jon does remember. They found plenty of weird things, plenty of incriminating things, but nothing the school board didn’t know about already, so he hadn’t given it much attention.

Maybe he should have, but then again, it’s not like he could’ve done anything about it.

“She... _that thing_ made it sound like...”

“ _Kenzie._ ”

She jumps, presses her lips together and stops on her tracks. Jon sighs and stops as well, running a hand through his hair.

“Peter’s disappearance was... his own doing,” he settles on, knowing that lying would not bode well for him. Martin is the one who’s great at it, and he’s the one who trips over his own tongue and always makes it glaringly obvious when he’s trying to hide something.

 _He wanted to die alone,_ his mind supplies him, unhelpfully.

Kenzie snorts. “Ominous as always, mister Sims. Which... doesn’t help your case here.”

A pause. Jon keeps looking at the sky, watching the clouds roll by. Kenzie shifts uncomfortably on her feet.

“...do you know where he is?”

“No,” he says without hesitation. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s close enough that he’s able to confidently answer her question without incriminating himself. Kenzie sighs.

“Okay. Okay, good enough for me,” she says, then resumes walking, Jon following right behind.

When they get to her house she unlocks the front door, and Jon asks her to wait. He turns the door knob, looks through, and nods.

“Alright Kenzie. Get some rest, and don’t worry about homework. I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” Jon says. Kenzie nods, and as Jon is turning around to leave, she grabs the back of his jacket. He turns, looks at her, and she looks _terrified_ , eyes misty with unshed tears. Jon feels his heart lurching painfully in his chest.

“Mister Sims... will she come back?”

Jon looks down at his shoes, then away down the street. He spots a cow in the distance, grazing peacefully in the meadows, and far down, hidden amongst the trees and tall grass, he thinks he sees a small speck of something bright yellow that clashes terribly with the scenery. It’s disconcerting.

“I don’t know, Kenzie,” he whispers softly. “I wish I could promise it won’t, but...” He pauses, straightens his back, pulls out a notepad and a pen from his jacket’s inner pocket. He writes something down on it, rips out the page and hands it over to Kenzie. “This is my personal number, and this is the landline at my house. If you _ever_ see a door that shouldn’t be there, _call me_. No matter what time it is, I’ll always answer. Martin might pick up if you call our house, but he’ll talk you through it, as well, in case I’m not there. Do not hesitate to call, am I clear?”

Kenzie nods, fingers tight on the paper. Jon realizes she’s shaking, just slightly. He places a hand on her shoulder and frowns.

“I’m sorry, Kenzie. I truly am.”

And he walks down the steps of her front porch and back onto the sidewalk before she can say anything in reply, letting his feet take him back to the cottage where he’s finally settled down with Martin.

He grips the strap of his shoulder bag, takes a deep, tight breath. Thinks of the things Helen said.

It would’ve been asking too much to have a normal life, wouldn’t it.

**Author's Note:**

> Kenzie is [Regi's](https://fox-guardian.tumblr.com) teacher!Jon AU OC (you can see her [here!](https://fox-guardian.tumblr.com/post/621046111082266624)) Thank you for letting me use her on my one shot, I love her so much and I really hope I did her justice!


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